passage

how do lives unfold? sometimes i feel like it is nothing more than person sitting on a big conveyor belt sliding from room to room. one room for new york, one room for boston, hammering away here and there, fiery blazes that temper you like a carframe.

this very moment i'm reading a book by my professor and mathilda's godmother diana eck:

darsan: seeing the divine image in india

having held onto the concept of traveling around india seeing cool stuff after graduation, this class swam up to me like "hey XXXX. take me, i'm right for you." so i did and it is. another thing that strikes me about this book (in addition to its world-expanding analysis of siva representation) is the awesome design of the book. check it out:



booyah. it looks amazing sitting here on my desk. i love it. i love diana, who i chatted with at lowell house tea this afternoon.

more thoughts later.